


meet me in the hallway

by mooncycling



Category: Harry Styles - Fandom
Genre: Bisexual Female Character, F/M, Harry Styles - Freeform, Harry styles/original female character - Freeform, Prostitution, Sex, Sex Work, harry styles as a pimp
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 14:00:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11991291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mooncycling/pseuds/mooncycling
Summary: harry is a pimp, and meredith is drowning in student debt. when she comes to a brothel for a job, harry can't help himself.*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧“I love a hard worker,” Harry says, lustfully looking at Meredith and she drinks it all up. She felt like a goddess underneath his gaze. “Do you have a problem with tardiness?”“No, I’m never late.”Harry pulls her long hair off of her shoulder, exposing her neck to him.“Do you question demands?” He began to kiss up and down her neck, trying to find her sweet spot.She moaned softly as she spoke. “Never, Harry.”“Good baby girl, I think I have a new girl in my hands. But I need to do one more thing before we start.”“What is that, Harry?”Harry looks at her rundown red jacket, and then back up at her face. “Did you wear lingerie like I said to in the email?”





	meet me in the hallway

**Author's Note:**

> if you don't respect sex workers, please don't comment degrading things. you read the summary, you know what you're getting into.

“Hi, I’m here for an... interview?”

Meredith doesn’t belong here. That’s why her presence makes every worker’s eyebrows raise. She was too clean. Tommy Hilfiger model clean. Her ginger hair, it’s been brushed too many times, like a little girl’s favourite doll. Her skin is freckled in the right way, and in the right light you can see even more freckles hiding in the microscopic layers of her skin.

She’s educated. High grades in every class. She talks like a politician, clear and persuasive.

And most of all, she’s pretty. Her face is what poets write about.

Meredith doesn’t belong in a brothel.

“Who is it with?” The receptionist says back, without looking up from her computer screen. Her dark skin is complemented with the bright red lingerie and lipstick she wears. Hair braided and put in a large bun on top of her head. Meredith always seems to stare a little longer at women than socially acceptable. They’re pretty, gorgeous things, and fuck she’s attracted to them.

Men, are a different story for Meredith.

They’re untrustworthy, but still fuckable.

“Styles was the name I was given.”

The receptionist looks up at her and stands up. She looks up and down Meredith’s body a couple times, looking over the ratty red coat she was wearing.

“What’s underneath that coat, honey?”

Meredith takes a deep breath and unzips her coat, revealing the best lingerie she owned, a burgundy 3 piece set, with nude stockings on her legs.

“Good enough. He might want you to change into something else though. He likes to have little fashion shows with his girls. Follow me.”

Meredith starts to follow her into a hallway that’s reminiscent of a hotel almost, or the house from _Beauty and the Beast._ Without the talking furniture there’s only half naked girls and pimps left.

“Um, are you one of his girls?” Meredith asks out of morbid curiosity.    

“No, I’m not, I’m the owner’s wife.”

“Oh, he still makes you dress like that?”

“It’s the uniform honey, get used to it.”

“Do you do sex work?”

“No, but I do everything else.”

They continue walking deep into the corridor, turning into a wing with labelled doors, saying things like ACCOUNTING, JANITORIAL SUPPLIES, and WORK SUPPLIES. Meredith was curious to see what was in the WORK SUPPLIES room, if she got the job.

“What’s your name?” The receptionist asks.

“Meredith.”

“Well, then, Meredith, my name is Joanna, if you need any help at all, just call 202 on the phone, I’ll pick within three rings. This is Mr. Styles’ room right here.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Good luck, darling.”

Joanna left her to knock on the door alone. She looked over the hallway before looking at the door, the name STYLES gracing the door in front of her eyes. She knocked the wood below his nameplate, three times.

“Who is it?” A rough, but tender voice said from behind the door. A rough, tender, British voice, as well.

“Um, it’s Meredith, I emailed you about an appointment?”

The door opened quickly, a mop of long hair bouncing across a face before settling to the sides of his head. He was shirtless, his skin littered in tattoos. She notices the happy trail above where his jeans start, and she gulps. His eyes were green, like, really fucking green. And they were big, full of emotion. His body matched his voice, rough and tender.

And he was really fucking attractive.

“Come in, it’s a little messy, I just woke up like ten minutes ago.”

“No worries.” Meredith smiled with professionalism as she walked into the room. The first thing she saw was the four poster bed. It was the kind of bed that she always wanted, but could never afford. The room was red, plush, and sexy. If a room could be sexy, this would be it. It smelt of wood and musk, the walls covered in art and photography, some photos of the long haired man that was walking back and forth across the room, trying to clean it up. Meredith noticed a leather bound notebook that was laid out on the nightstand that was besides his bed, handwriting laid on top of the pages. Next to his desk, he had a full bookshelf, filled with records and poetry complimations. She pulled out a copy of the essential Rumi collection, and flipped through the pages.

“You like Rumi?”

“Yeah, from what I’ve read.”

“You can borrow that anytime, y’know.” Meredith looks over to him, he’s now wearing a loose fitting top, it’s barely buttoned up but it gives you the chance to peek at the little birds on his collarbones. The shirt is so floral it looks like it’s a women’s top, but he seems to pull it off very well.

“Thanks.”

There’s an awkward silence in the room, Styles looks at her in wonder. He wonders why someone like her would be looking for work here. She’s so pure, it seems. He watches her nimble hands as she puts the book back into it’s place on the shelf, her nails long and lady-like.

“Follow me into my living room, Meredith.” He strides over through the bedroom in a large living room, a television hooked onto the wall above the grand fireplace, the red theme still going through as well. There was a plush velvet couch with two matching love seats adjacent to them, with a coffee table with a game of Scrabble on top of it in the middle.

“Sit down, please.” He walks to a counter with various alcohols and spirits on top of it, and he grabs himself a vodka on the rocks. “Did you want a drink?”

“I’ll have what you’re having.” She says slyly. He looks over at Meredith and smirks a little bit. Meredith sits down on the large couch, and after pouring their drinks he joins her on the same couch. Meredith takes a large swig from her glass and she finally feels relaxed enough to go through with this interview at least.

“What’s your name?” She blurts out before he’s able to ask any questions.

“Harry, Harry Styles.”

“Okay,” She takes another sip, the alcohol in her bloodstream makes her yammer on talking. “It just felt weird only knowing your last name. It’s weird just saying Styles. I like Harry, it suits you.”

“I better thank my mum then,” Meredith makes eye contact with him for the first time in the whole night, the alcohol already making her feel brave. She was known to be a bit of a lightweight whenever she would go out, so she’s not surprised that what would equate to a shot of vodka already has her tipsy. “So, have you ever done sex work before?”

For a moment, Meredith is shocked by the question but then she remembers where she is and who she is with. She remembers the lingerie underneath her jacket and the reality of this situation seems to settle into her mind. “No, I haven’t. I have dance experience though, if that counts?”

“That will come in handy for you, Meredith, but that’s fine, we have had tonnes of first timers come through here. We’d need you to go through two weeks of training though, and they’d be with me, so... are you okay with that?”

“I’m fine with that.” She says a little too quickly, and Harry giggles. His laugh was raspy and deep, and it turned her on. His giggles soon turned into a small smirk as he watched  Meredith squeezed her thighs together at the sight Harry’s face.

“Is there anything, _sexually_ , you’re opposed to?”

“Not that I can think of.”

“Would you be willing to have sex with a girl? We do have a lot of female clients come through.”

“Yes,” She answers quickly again, and Harry’s smirk seems to grow and grow at every second. “I’m bisexual. I’m very open to anything sexual. I’ve done almost anything you can probably name.”

“I do like experienced women. Well, I need you to know that if you do accept to work here, I would be your boss. You’d answer to me, and me only. Not to the owner and not to any of the other pimps here, okay?”

Hearing the word _pimp_ out loud is jarring for Meredith. The way it comes out of Harry’s mouth is weird, because he’s somewhat talking about himself. He’s a pimp and he doesn’t beat around the bush about it. He knows who he is, he knows how attractive he is and he knows what he’s doing. Meredith, on the other hand, is scared shitless almost.

“Okay. So you’d be my...”

“Yes Meredith I’d be your pimp. Please don’t call me that, though, it’s a disgusting term.”

“Yeah, it is...” Meredith looks up to the ceiling, hoping that when she looks back down at her hand that her glass would be refilled. Harry stands up and takes off his shirt, and leans against the wall parallel to the couch. When Meredith looks up, she finds an empty glass, and a shirtless Harry.

“Now, do you have any asshole exes that might come in here and disrupt our place of business?”

“No, not at all.”

“Are you addicted to any drugs? It’s okay if you are, just, don’t do them here.”

“No, I’m just... a poor college graduate looking for money to pay off her student debt.”

“Do you have another job?”

“Yes, but it’s during the day, it doesn’t pay very well though.”

“What do you do at your day job?” Harry queried with charming raise of his eyebrow.

“I’m a... social media coordinator for my mom’s business. She owns a nail salon.” Meredith awkwardly scratched her neck, then downs the rest of her drink and puts it on the coffee table.

“Do you... do her Instagram?” Harry asked, walking towards Meredith as she took her phone out of her pocket.

“I do, it’s @MissMacCormickNails.”

Harry sits down next to her, closer to each other compared the first time. Meredith can feel Harry’s breath on her neck, sending chills that she doesn’t seem to mind.

Meredith scrolls through all of the pictures of different nail jobs her mother did on her clients. Harry is amazing at how many likes and comments they get, from people all around the world.

“You’re doing a great job! Does it bring your mom business?”

“I guess so, my mom would know about it than I do.”

“I love a hard worker,” Harry says, lustfully looking at Meredith and she drinks it all up. She felt like a goddess underneath his gaze. “Do you have a problem with tardiness?”

“No, I’m never late.”

Harry pulls her long hair off of her shoulder, exposing her neck to him.

“Do you question demands?” He began to kiss up and down her neck, trying to find her sweet spot.

She moaned softly as she spoke. “Never, Harry.”

“Good baby girl, I think I have a new girl in my hands. But I need to do one more thing before we start.”

“What is that, Harry?”

Harry looks at her rundown red jacket, and then back up at her face. “Did you wear lingerie like I said to in the email?”

“Yes,” Meredith says as she looks down at her jacket. “I did.”

Harry takes a sip of his drink and spreads his arms out across the couch. “Why don’t you give me a little show, eh?”

“Huh?”

Harry gets closer to her ear and she shivers at the warm breath going down her neck.

“Strip for me.”

Meredith ignores the chills going up and down her spine as she stands up, smoothing out the wrinkles in her jacket. She loses her balance when she remembers that she’s wearing heels, but she flips her hair off of her shoulder and walks to the fire place. They make eye contact before Meredith reaches up to pull down her zipper. In an instinct move she turns around, facing the fire, making her skin flush. Once the zipper is down she drops it onto the ground, exposing her lingerie set to Harry. He takes a deep breath as he watches her turn around, her full chest coming into view, her bra pulling them up in the more delicious way. Meredith starts to run her hands on her exposed stomach, curvy in all the right places. Harry thinks she belongs in a renaissance painting, draped in silk in a large bed.

Harry is so caught up in painted thoughts of her that it quietly startles him when Meredith speaks.

“What would like me to take off first?”

Harry surveys her face, she was searching for a starting point. She had no idea what to do.

“Come sit on my lap,” Meredith obliges and before she goes for it, Harry interrupts her.

“Please take off those damn heels, darling, they get in the way.”

Meredith bends down and struggles taking off her heels, and he laughs.

“Here, sit down, I’ll take them off.” Meredith sits down and swings her legs over onto the couch, and Harry gets a damn good view of her smooth legs, hidden underneath the nylon of her stockings,  before his fingers start to work on the buckle of her heels above her ankle. He gets the first one off and she moans a lot more louder than she meant too.

“These hurt?” Harry holds up her free heel beside his head. He has a devilish smile on his face, a dimple almost evident and Meredith melts in his good looks.

“Yes...”

“When you’re in this room,” Harry says as he throws the other shoe across the room and starts working on Meredith’s second shoe. “You don’t need to wear no fuckin’ heels. You’re my girl, you can wear anything you fuckin’ want.”

“Okay.” She says as Harry throws the other shoe in the same direction as before. Harry gestures for her to sit on his lap. She realizes that when Harry says “sit” he really means “straddle” so she puts her hands behind his neck, tangling her fingers in his hair before straddling Harry. And Harry is impressed by her sudden cockiness.

“Hello, angel.” His hands touch Meredith for the first time, sliding them to her thighs, unbuckling her grater snaps and slipping off her stockings on both sides. Meredith blushes at his courtesy, watching his large hands trace over her pale skin, causing goosebumps to rise.

“For you, baby, start with the stockings. Your legs are to fuckin’ die for, Jesus Christ...” Harry trails off as he begins to grasp at her ass, causing Meredith to gasp. She’s never been gawked at this much. Gawked wasn’t the right word. Admired. Harry was admiring every inch of her body and Meredith couldn’t help but wonder if he did this to everyone of his girls. Did his girls look like her? What did they look like? Were they skinnier than she was? Was she _really_ good enough to-

“Meredith, what’s wrong?” Harry’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts, his eyes filled with worry.

“I’m sorry, I’m just feeling... really insecure right now.”

“Well we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

Meredith can feel the tears well up in her eyes as she shook her head no in reply.

“Come on, we’ll be more comfortable in my bed.” Harry stands up and takes her hand in his and guides her through the living room into the bedroom. They sat together at the end of the bed, Meredith brushing away her tears a little bit awkwardly.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, this is probably a scary situation for you, eh?”

“Yeah.”

“Here, just focus on me, yeah? How ‘bout I make you feel good?” He traces the side of her bicep as he speaks, not losing Meredith’s eye contact. “You don’t need to worry about impressing me, or anybody else, you don’t need to worry about future clients, just, focus on me. Okay?”

Meredith seems to be drowning in his words when she nods her head. He’s probably the prettiest man she’s ever seen. He looked a little androgynous even, like Keanu Reeves in the 90’s. And he was so caring that it just overwhelmed her. She couldn’t help but moan when he finally kissed her. He probably wasn’t supposed to kiss her but he did anyways, and the taste of him was so wonderful that she didn’t want it to stop. She was grabby - she’s never been grabby before. Meredith’s hands just did their own thing, physically begging for the tight jeans adorned to Harry’s legs to be gone as he kissed up and down her neck and chest. When she moaned the loudest is when Harry finally said something.

“You want these off, babe?” He gestured down to his jeans as Meredith regained her breath. She nodded back at him, and he stepped off of the bed and unbuttoned his jeans and stripped them down, a little bit awkwardly bit at least Meredith finally got to see those thighs free. She noticed the tiger tattoo on one of his thighs, and was instantly compelled by it.

“I like your tattoo,” She blurted out as Harry crawled on top of her. “The one on your thigh.”

“Thanks, babe,” Meredith could feel a blush come to her cheeks when he called her “babe.” “You have any yourself?”

“That’s for you to find out.” Meredith smirked up at him, and he kisses her hungrily. His hands found the edge of her panties and slowly took them off as he continued to kiss her. She felt impatient, and all she wanted was him. His mouth, his fingers, his cock, his _anything_. She was so caught up on the sensation of Harry that when his fingers met her clit, she moaned the loudest she had all night.

“That’s it baby, that’s it, relax...” Harry attached his lips to her neck, littering her skin with kisses until he found the spot that made her squeal against his body, arching her back into him. He took the opportunity and took his free hand and pitched the back of her bra, and unclasped it, sliding it off her body. His lips moved to the peaks of her breasts, where his tongue and teeth attacked her nipples. She was so overwhelmed with sensation that all that she wanted was a break. So she lazily squeezed his bicep, grabbing his attention.

“What, Mere?” The nickname rolled off of his tongue so beautifully that her eyelids got heavier with lust.

“Too much... too much...” She rolled her head back and forth against the pillow, and Harry just laughed.

“Okay, I’ll stop until you’re ready.” Harry pulled himself off of her body, a smile on his face as he did so. He laid beside her, hand holding up his head as he watched her eyes flutter open and close as she took deep breaths. His eyes traced up and down her body, until he found black markings on her rib cage, underneath her breasts.

“Is that a tattoo I see?” Harry asks. Meredith chuckles.

“Yes.” She rolled over until she was on her side, and Harry could fully see it. Written in a font that was close to a typewriter’s, her skin declared “ _I shut my eyes and the world drops dead._ ”

“I got it as a joke. It’s a Sylvia Plath quote. I got it because I love to sleep.” Meredith laughed into the bed, and all Harry could do was witness it, because she was so fucking beautiful that it made him paralyzed, as if he was an actor on his TV screen when his DVD played over a scratch and froze.

He watched her laugh until she fell asleep, and he didn’t fucking mind.


End file.
